There is an anger comes off this girl That she can't find an origin The things I plant won't grow Yet the wild weeds flower in wind and snow Nothing to be nothing to prove Nowhere to go nothing to lose When will my season come Was I born of infertile soil Is my seed without song Can I not see the woods for these forests in my head Can I not see the sunlight as I play dead? Nothing to be nothing to prove Nowhere to go nothing to lose